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ForumsInteractive Story Board → The Never-ending Story Thread²
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The Never-ending Story Thread²
2004-12-08, 6:01 PM #321
Dark clouds are coming. something truly evil is about to happen. A power is returning. A power SO EVIL it can only be described as pure evilness. Really evil. REALLY dark clouds,

----------------------------

Gebohq: I don't like this. Something bad is coming. I know this evil... I've fought it before. This can only be one thing, and it's not good. I hope i'm wrong.

Unknown menacing voice: NO! no your not! ha ha ha ha ha ha, i have almost returned to full power. POWER SQUARED! I am the original ruler of the NeS and i have come to reclaim whats mine! ha ha ha ha ha ha *laughter dies out*

--------------------------------

What could powwibly be about to happen? can old members of this board just come and go as they please like they own it? And is there anyone that hasn't guessed whats about to happen?The answers to these questions and others MIGHT be revealed in the next exciting edition of NeS! ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.......*cough* ha.
Shutup brain or I'll stab you with a Q-tip!
2004-12-13, 7:27 AM #322
The Writers Realm ... A plaace of unknown mystery and unfathomable danger. A place of Dark Pasts and Uncertain Future. A place of 3-day-old pots of coffee and stale pasteries. When Geb gets sidetracked. Christ, who writes this st!URK...

*koffach*Ahem. A place of a rather nasty union strike. Too bad the Massassi Forums leaders dont recognise the union...

Protesters: Blah! Blah! Blah! When do we get paid! etc.

When we left the realm last time, Ford the Writer has just returned after a long absence. Lets see what he's up to...

FordtW: So...what'd i miss?

MaybetW: Only the revolution, man. We're putting it to the man, saying we wont work unless properly compensated. our every whim catered to, man. Can you smell it, its the wind of change!!

FordtW: Perhaps its me, but it smells more like you guys havent showered since you went on strike.

OttertW: I resemble that remark!

FordtW: Look guys, we've got the easiest job on the planet. we sit on our butts drinking free drinks of our choice, eating the finest pastries geb can afford, with the occasionaly pizza party; until some idea comes and whacks us on the head(sometimes literally). come on guys. come inside. have a shower. take a nap in the dorms. how long has it been since you've slept in a real bed?

Random Homeless Guy: *shakily* Its been 27 years since i've even seen a bed, other than the ones in the newspaper i sleep under.....

FordtW: No ones talking to you. So whaddya say guys?

LostW: *dreamily* I've forgotten what soap tastes like....

CookietW: I've forgotten what pillows smell like.

OttertW: I've forgotten what porn looks like...

FordtW: its settled then. go on. inside. the scary building isnt going to hurt yo*OOF!*

Just then, an idea fell out of the sky aand landed on FordtW's head. or perhaps it was a coffee mug. only the little viking knows...

FordtW: ****ing Hell! that hurts...say...i've got an idea! Hurry all of you inside! before i forget!

Will the workers finally do what their name implies? Will Ford the Writer indeed get to his idea out and onto the page? Will Random Homeless Guy ever become somebody? Will someone else get hit by random objects flying out of second story windows? Find out next time on The Never-ending Story: When Vikings Attack!

KrigtW: Hee! Stuff go smash on ground! Whee! *cartwheels*
My girlfriend paid a lot of money for that tv; I want to watch ALL OF IT. - JM
2004-12-13, 10:51 AM #323
*The heroes continued to stare in awe at the new face of London. Derelict cars sparsely populated the streets as enormous tripodal Mayor McCheeses patrolled, seeking action. Trash sat in the street as though the Tuesday garbage pickup had been missed for weeks on end. The citizens milled about, much like sheep being herded by large shaggy dogs. And above it all, Helebon continued to preach his propagandic doctrine.*

CookedHaggis: Man, this town's really gone to hell since I was last here.

Thrawn42689: Yes, that would be what all the newspaper headlines seem to suggest.

*As Antestarr leafed through a newspaper which chronicled France and its surrender to both sides after 7 minutes of watching the civilized world face off against the masses of the evilspawn, Qhobeg walked to a pile of litter and picked up an old chinese food carton.*

Qhobeg: I've always wanted to try this...

*Qhobeg chucked the carton at the back of a random passerby's head.*

Passerby (turning to face Qhobeg): I'd very much appreciate it if you didn't throw refuse at... A GHOST! AAAK!

Qhobeg: What?! Who? Where?

Passerby: You... you're the ghost of the one they publicly executed over the BigTVs a few weeks ago! Besides, who other than a ghost wouldn't have legs?!

Ahnuld: Yeah, where'd your legs go, Qho?

*Qhobeg looked down, only to see that from the waist down there was nothing.*

Qhobeg: No!! Now I can't... I can't run... I can't kick... I can't... uh... do that thing that I shouldn't talk about in front of ladies...

Young: Which thing is it he is talking about?

Ante: Uh... raquetball.

Otter: Wow, Qhobeg, that's talent. I mean, even at my drunkest I still have all my appendages! Except for that one time with the circular saw and the woodchipper... but I prefer not to remember that.

Thrawn42689: So, randomness aside, it would appear that your camo pants are actually thermoptic camo pants.

Qhobeg: Thermowhowhatnow?

Thrawn42689: Thermoptic Camouflage. A technology which bends light and heat to make whatever it covers appear invisible. Though, in your case, I think it would only be useful if you were hiding halfway out of a bush and tucked your feet into your pants.

Otter: Or, you could put your pants on your head and run around the Oxford campus trying to pick up chicks by streaking like I did this one time...

*While the heroes discussed the Missing Legs of the Qhobeg, the passerby hurried along to a checkpoint where he explained the ghost sighting. One of the guards posted at the checkpoint approached the group, lighting what appeared to be a large electrified feather.*

Guard: Alright you creeps. Into this nearby dilapidated building before I shickle you all right here and now.

Ante: Shickle?

Guard: New in town, huh? This is my shickling rod. It mixes shocking and tickling, two of the world's most horrifying tortures ever contrived. Now, get in the building!

*The heroes, not wanting to experience "shickling", followed the guard's orders and entered a nearby building which appeared to house 32.5 families into a 10 bedroom hallway. He led them down the stairs and into a room full of strange devices and several blast doors. He then put away his shickling rod and took off his mask to reveal a familiar face.*

Guard: It's me, guys. Phil the Ugo driver!

CookedHaggis: Who's this guy?

Otter: Never seen him before.

Phil: No, really, I used to hang out with you guys all the time. I had this really cool van and... well, that's not the point right now. The world kind of needed you a couple weeks back, and we've been wondering where you've been.

Ante: We were taking a nap...

Phil: A nap.

Young: These fellows were in a state of semi-suspended animation as they battled the inner nightmares of the NeS itself while it slept.

Phil: I don't really understand the lady, but ok. Anyway, we really need you guys to do something... you know, like winning the Earth back from Lord Helebon Master of All Humanity and Devility Alike.

Ahnuld: That seems like a long and drawn out title...

Phil: Yes, but if you don't use his full title and he finds out, he'll strap you down and force you to watch a 7 hour clogging revue!

CookedHaggis: A fate far worse than death...

*Phil looked over the group one member at a time, finally stopping at Qhobeg.*

Phil: You... you must be the one that the prophetish critters that live in the sewers refer to at the "Obfuscated One".

Qhobeg: "Obfuscated One"?

Phil: Yeah, those creepy little guys always speak in riddles. Something about a revolution and somesuch tripe. We usually just hit the little guys with the flamethrowers and move on.

Qhobeg: I, uh, see.

Ante: So, it's up to us to save the world again, eh? I take it we need to storm that big Citadel thingy, overthrow Helebon, and reap the rewards due great heroes?

Phil: Well, that may be a bit of a problem, what with all the guards patrolling the ships and the Killer Sharkplanes and the McCheese Enforcers and various deathtraps along the way... Then there's the fact that the Citadel itself is guarded by the most vile, destructive, and downright evil force ever to set foot upon the Earth...

Otter: Clowns?

Thrawn42689: Deranged scientists?

Ahnuld: Snowmen?

Phil: Far worse.

Ante: You can't possibly mean...

Phil: Yes. The halls of the Citadel are guarded by the Green Bay Packers.

Ante: This is far worse than I could have imagined. Perhaps we should hit the sewers and find those weird little critters. They might be able to shed light on this whole "Obfuscated One" thing. And they might have guns.

*The Green Bay Packers. Truly Hell on Earth... Will our heroes be able to overcome the threats before them? Will the killer robots remain helpful rather than try to kill the heroes? And what kind of guns could one find in the sewers of London? Find out sometime in the future...*

------------------------------

Helebon: My benefactor, I have received a visual confirmation that the flies have come after my ointment. Are you certain we will be able to maintain our hold of the domain?

Voice: Yes, all is going according to plan, though they bring a new and unpredictable force with them...

*A black and gnarled arm ending in a claw clutched what appeared to be the hilt of a lightsaber.*

Voice: ...but it should be no problem at all.
Pereant qui ante nos nostra dixerunt.
2004-12-13, 2:27 PM #324
Back in Gebohq's cell within Helebon's Citadel...

Geb: Dark clouds... familiar intimidating voice...

Voice: Prepare for your demise...

A dark fire erupts in front of Gebohq to reveal...

Voice: ...for it is I, Ares!

Geb: Oh, it's just you.

Ares: What the-- THAT'S NOT WHAT YOU'RE SUPPOSE TO SAY!

Ares stands with his arms crossed, dressed in his classic battle armor.

Geb: Sorry.

Ares: I just wanted to be feared as the god of war that I am. Is that so much to ask?

Geb: Well you do smell pretty scary.

Ares: That would be the spoils of war that I have bathed in these past few weeks. This demon guy Helebon might just have started something worthy of the Apocalypse. Soon enough all this fighting will give me enough power to rule this world myself.

Geb: That's nice.

Ares: IT ISN'T NICE, DAMNIT! You puny mortals will tremble before my might!

Geb: Jim wasn't very happy about losing to the EeP either. Speaking of, have you talked to Rob X lately?

Ares: Oh he and Cthulhu were joyriding someplace in Mexico since Saturday last I heard, and he left me with his stupid cat Morris, who won't stop chasing Sugar Dumpling when I take them to the beach-- GAH! I AM NOT UPSET ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED ON PAGE 50!

Ares spins to face away from Gebohq.

Ares: I'm going to go bother some of your friends, or start a riot in Germany or something.

Geb: Hey, can you get me out of here before you leave?

Ares: NO! You can rot in this place for all I care. Not even falling to your knees in fear of my scary entrance... AND I'M TAKING YOUR DOUGHNUTS TOO!

Ares swipes the stale doughnuts before dissapearing in a puff of smoke and fire.

Geb: :(
The Plothole: a home for amateur, inclusive, collaborative stories
http://forums.theplothole.net
2004-12-13, 5:12 PM #325
**BOOM**

The thunderous explosion echoes across the deserted spaceship launch pad, as the Blackguard's grenade launcher misfires, taking out a nearby control tower. As the building crumbles to the ground in a roar of smoke and dust, a frantic battle takes place out on the tarmac. Krig, a blur of motion, hammers away on the Blackguard, keeping him on the defensive. His blows seem to have little other effect, however, their force being absorbed by the black cobalt armour. Cool Matty and The Last True Evil stand nearby, hesitant to join the fray for fear of getting tangled up with Krig. As the fight continues, Wai rejoins them, looking somewhat worse for the wear.


TLTE: Проклятый! Krig keeps getting in the way, I cannot get a shot!

Wai: We should use this opportunity to commandeer a ship and escape.

TLTE: Have you no compassion for our comrade? He will be killed!

Wai: Have I no what-now?

CM: We can't leave anyway, this guy in the armour would just shoot us down if we tried. He needs to be neutralized.

Just then, the Blackguard manages to pull the pin on a hand grenade, and drops it on himself. There is a violent explosion, and Krig goes flying straight up.

Blackguard: Haha! Fool! I--

There is a barrage of gunfire as TLTE empties his pistol into the man in black armour, creating a shower of sparks. As he does, Cool Matty summons an intense blue flame and launches it at the Blackguard, consuming him entirely with fire hot enough to melt steel. When the smoke clears, the Blackguard is on the ground, sizzling -- but not dead.

Blackguard (rising to his feet): This is becoming less entertaining by the minute. You clearly have no weapon powerful enough to penetrate my armour. Perhaps I have overestimated you.

Wai: Well, that'd be a first, usually people underestimate these buffoons...

CM: Hey! Is that an insult?

Blackguard: I know it's a cliche, but I really must kill you all now. I -- oof!

The Blackguard collapses to the ground again as the charred body of a certain Viking plummets from the sky where it was blown, crashing directly on top of the Blackguard's head. Throwing Krig's comatose body to the side, the Blackguard slowly gets to his feet again, shaking his head to clear it.

Blackguard: Urgh, that midget is heavier than he looks. Now, as -- Hey! Where'd everybody go?

The Blackguard stands alone on the tarmac, with no sign of TLTE, CM, or Wai to be seen. Even Krig is missing. The Blackguard looks around, suspicious, and then looks up, glaring at the sky.

ZIP-PAN!!!

TLTE, CM, and Wai stand on what looks to be the bridge of a spaceship, heavily decorated in a gaudy Mexican theme. The smell of spicy Mexican cuisine pervades the area, and a cheerful-sounding salsa number blares from hidden speakers. At the front of the bridge is a large chair, which spins around to reveal--


Guy in Sombrero: Welcome, amigos, to my interstellar enchilada enterprise! I hope you have not been inconvenianced by your abrupt arrival?

CM: Uh... where are we? Who are you?

TLTE: I know of this man! Gebohq spoke of him once, in tones of great reverence! This is... the Enchilada Man!

CM: Oh... Hi!

Enchilada Man: Si, hello! I am indeed the Enchilada Man, purveyor of delicious Mexican foodstuffs to the galaxy and beyond! Until you have tasted my specially created enchiladas, you have not tasted heaven, amigo. This is my ship, the Flying Taco VII.

CM: What happened to the other Flying Tacos?

Enchilada Man: Eh, let us just say that there was a series of jalepeño related... ah... incidents. But that is not important right now.

Wai: Where is Krig? The short Viking thing, he was hurt.

Enchilada Man: Ah yes, your friend is in my infirmary, being cared for by my hermana. He will be ok! Would you like enchiladas?

Wai: No thanks, I'm a robot. A question: why did you rescue us?

TLTE: And another, more important question: Is this ship capable of travelling to Jupiter?

Enchilada Man: Señors! My ship is capable of travelling to the ends of the universe, if there is a hungry person in need of an enchilada to fill his stomach and delight his taste buds! Easily can I go to this "Jupiter".

Wai: What about my question?

Enchilada Man: Ah, yes, well, I was in the neighborhood. I could not let potential customers be exploded!

TLTE: What makes you think we're potential customers? I am Russian, all I require for nutrition is vodka!

Enchilada Man: When an enchilada is craved, mi amigo, the Enchilada Man is there to feed that craving! When little children cry because they do not have any tacos, the Enchilada man is there with at least six tacos per child! And when one of you four ached inside because you longed for the succulent, spicy flavour of the universe's best beef, onion, and cheese, wrapped up in a delectable corn tortilla and infused with the very best of the most secret enchilada sauce and spices, I knew instantly that delay would mean the most cruel of disasters: an enchilada not baked lovingly by the Enchilada Man himself!

TLTE: Actually, I am pretty sure Krig does not even know what an enchilada is, much less have cravings for such a thing.

CM: Actually, um...

Wai: CM -- you?

CM: Well, I was feeling kind of hungry, and I hadn't had Mexican food in a while...

TLTE: All of this is irrelevant. The only relevant quesiton is: Will you take us to Jupiter, Enchilada Man?

Behold the classic literary cliffhanger -- a question at the end of a post, but with no answer! What will Enchilada Man say? Will he say yes, and transport our four intrepid adventurers to the fifth planet of the Sol system? Or will he say no, and doom our Heroes to return and face the terrible Blackguard once more? More importantly, will there be any sort of enchilada-related joke entailed in his reply? Only time will tell, here on the NEVER... ending... STORY... ORY... ory... ry... ry... y... etc.
So sayest the Writer of Silly Things!
2004-12-16, 1:12 AM #326
In outer space, no one can here you...

B.U.M.P.!

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

That was not yours truely, the mighty Narrator, screaming like a little girl just now. I was just startled, is all, with outer space being all dark and OH GOD IT'S RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME AHRghghgrhgllee.......


(NSP: >_> .....)
The Plothole: a home for amateur, inclusive, collaborative stories
http://forums.theplothole.net
2004-12-17, 11:49 AM #327
Screen-swipe back to our group of heroes with Phil.

Phil: Well if you want to go to the sewers, my suggestion would be to go back--

Knocking is heard, followed by "Open up!" and "We want to make you smile!"

Phil: --too late. You all will have to go out the back window. I'll meet up with you again later. Go!

Antestarr signals the others through the back room and out the window. Retreating like a snake, CookedHaggis, the Otter, Thrawn42689, Ahnuld, Qhobeg, Young and Antestarr climb out of a window and into a back alley, where the group delves further into the claustrophobic alley maze. The Otter takes the opportunity to pull out a flask, whips a swig from it, and coughs.

Otter: ****ing moonshine... I need to find myself some real liquor.

Ahnuld: I don't think getting drunk is such a good idea right now...

The Otter throws his hand towards Ahnuld, a golfball-size flame shaking within the confines of his hand.

Otter: Your home hasn't gone to bloody hell, so shut up!

Haggis: Shhh! We don't want to announce ourselves.

Otter: Don't shush me...

The Otter quiets down, despite his current state, as the group sneaks through the dark webwork of cluttered alleys in an attempt to find a sewer entrance. Young tugs on Antestarr's sleeve.

Young: Why am I here?

Ante: Don't you remember? We came to shop when we found London conquored by the forces of Hell--

Young: No, I mean why do I exist?

Ante: Uh... perhaps another time. Now's really not the optimal--

Young: I want to know now.

Antestarr looks at the others. The Otter is mostly mumbling to himself while the others appear relatively preoccupied looking for a sewer entrance as they pace through the crisscross of alleys.

Ante: In short, you were created to keep the writers in check. The writers are... well, they're like gods. But they shouldn't be. See, the writers are very human, and probably insane. They don't really care what happens to us, and place us in needless danger simply to heighten drama. Thus, I took it upon myself to create you, the first Blank Character in NeS, guided not by the writers and their whims, but by us, the "characters" that play in their story we know as life, the NeS. But there is a dilemma in this dream of mine, the dream that you and other characters will one day be free: without the writers, we are denied life, and for the time, there seems to be little we can do. You, Young, are born to be free from the writers, and it is in your very core. With any luck, the writers will be forced to do what you wish to do, no matter how much it may ruin their plans of "drama."

Young: And the writers will, in turn, be forced to what you wish to do, because you are my keepers, my parents.

Ante: Yes... but....

Thrawn42689: Something doesn't feel right in the air... something's coming!

From the air, a small patrol of demons swoop down. The group ducks as the demons attempt to dive-bomb, and having missed, the demons land in preperation for a fight.

Ante: Crap, all I have is this frying pan and a scapel.

Qho: Leave these chumps to me.

Qhobeg walks up to the pack of demons with all the confidence of the Fonz. The first demon moves in to clock Qhobeg over the head with its fist, but Qhobeg deftly dodges to the side and kicks the demon into a wall. The other demons begin to show signs of concern at the apparently floating torso. The group then moves in to attack him, but Qhobeg leaps and leans ala Neo-style.

Haggis: Damn, he's quick.

Just then, in an attempt to evade a punch, Qhobeg spins himself into a wall. As Qhobeg rubs his bleeding nose, the demons knock him to the ground.

Ante: Too quick.

Antestarr and Haggis attempt to aid Qhobeg with the occasional smack of the frying pan while Thrawn42689 and Ahnuld beat the demons into a messy pulp. Young stands still and watches the two robots fight.

Ante: We have to get moving, there's bound to be more on the way.

Ahnuld: Look, a manhole!

Young: How fortunate.

Antestarr gives Young a look of concern as the group descends into the sewer system.
The Plothole: a home for amateur, inclusive, collaborative stories
http://forums.theplothole.net
2004-12-17, 5:37 PM #328
Meanwhile (NeScount n^n*infinity) in the writers realm Ford the Writer confronts the head Writer, Geb the Writer.

FordTW: What do you mean you dont want them back!?

GebtW: They dont deserve it. None of them are worthy anymore.

FordtW: You're telling me, that you spent all that time trying to get them back, now that they're here, you dont want them.

GebtW: Entirely correct. *snobby hair flip*

FordtW: you're just pissed cause i got them to come back with an inspiring speech while all your whining had no effect aren't you?

GebtW: >_ >.....<_<....No

FordTW: Are you sure you dont feel like power is being usurped from you and the writers have no loyalty to you?

GebTW: N...*sighs* Yes. Yes i do.

FordtW: Well dont. because i've got work to do, and i cant waste any time on writing motivational speeches. do you know how long that speech took me to write? 6 months! SIX! it was a pain in the arse and i really dont feel like doing it again. so get them workin yourself, or go get someone else to do it. i've got pages to write!

GebTW: How long'd that one take?

FordtW: Heh. dont ask my friend, dont ask.

GebtW: *clapping FordtW on the arm* Its good to have you back, buddy.

FordtW: Its good to be back. It really is.

FordtW walks out of Geb's office, head held high, through the cubicle maze where all the writers applause him. FordTW turns and says

FordtW: Cut it out. this is reminding me of a cheezy 80's "get ahead in big business while still managing to get the girl" movie.

KatianatW: Hey there tiger.

FordtW: For crying out loud!

will FordtW ever make it to his desk? Will Geb get people motivated? Will KatianatW actually fall for FordtW? How many licks does it take to...hey, now this is not PG! What? oh time! Find out next time on The REAL Never-ending Story...

KatianatW: Is that a writing untensile in your pocket or are you just delighting in my presense?
My girlfriend paid a lot of money for that tv; I want to watch ALL OF IT. - JM
2004-12-20, 7:57 PM #329
Enchilada Man: Why of course I shall give you passage to Jupiter! Jupiter is the home of many of my amigos!

TLTE: Great, then let us go!

E-Man gestures to his mexican-themed vessel, and they all climb aboard. Inside, the theme continues, oddly enough with adobe walls, and an intense heat fitting of the desert.

CM: Do you really have to keep the temperature cranked up so high?

E-Man: Of course! My special herbs and spices grow very well within a 80-85F degree temperature! I cannot risk to lose the flavor! I am sure you understand, amigo.

CM: Right... so... can we get moving?

TLTE: Yes, although I do not wish to sound that we are not grateful for the company of an old friend, we are in a very dangerous situation.

E-Man: As that unruly customer back there revealed, I am sure. Say no more! The Flying Taco VII rides tonight!

Wai: Tonight? But we were thinking more along the lines of... well..

TLTE: Right now.

E-man: You do not wish to sample the Enchilada Man's wonderful spanish dishes? Or mexican delicacies? It is not good to fly on an empty stomach, you realize.

CM: We'll take something on the road.

Krig: Big Black Guy with giant boomstick coming!!! Quickly!!!

Wai: E-Man, you must not let him catch up to us, we have to get out of here. He wants nothing more than our destruction, and he would not think twice to burn all of your tortillias.

E-Man: Detestable! Unthinkable! No one could dare grace my burrito offerings with such evil will!

TLTE: Then you wish to chance it?

E-Man: Heavens no! We must traverse the skies, with great speed! *grabs a taco-shaped phone* Pepper-Room, fire up the grills! We're moving out! Rapido Bobos!!! Si! Mas rapido, un enemigo grande es cerca de el barco!!!

Wai: Wait, this ship runs on gri-- *luurch*

Suddenly, all 5 of them were pinned to the floor, held down by the incredible gravitational forces acting upon them.

Wai: But this makes no sense, a grill cannot possibly produce enough power to move an object out of earth's orbit!

E-Man: Apparently you have not tasted my 5^97th alarm chili, amigo!

Wai: Nor will I, seeing as how I am unable to taste food....

E-Man: Unable to taste? Oh poor soul! I greave for the horrible life you must be living, having never graced your mouth with even the tiniest morsel of my grand selection of appetisers and entrees!

Wai: I think I'll survive... somehow...

TLTE: So uhh, how long until we can stand again? Not that this position is all that painful... but ... well ... it's really, REALLY painful.

E-Man: But the perfectly replicated sand floor is so warm!

CM: Quite the point in itself... its hot... and it's freaking everywhere!

Krig: Krig get sand up his tunic...

E-Man: Poor poor amigos! Do not fear! The Flying Taco VII has the best grills this side of the Milky Way!

Wai: And I still haven't found out how that could possibly get us moving upwa....

A certain ringing sound is heard from the TacoPhone

E-Man: Si? Que es la problema? No tienes mas pepperochinis? IDIOTA! Si, si. Un momento...

CM: What's wrong?

E-man: It seems we have run out of our main fuel source...

TLTE: Just dandy. And let me guess, no fuel station in sight.

E-Man: In these parts? This place is like that American desert place! All barren and such! No pepperochinis for lightyears! No, we will need to return to the home of the burrito.

Krig: Krig need to use bathroom...

CM: I'm still hungry...

Wai: I think my brain is going to explode after working on this impossible physics situation involving the grills and propulsion...

TLTE: *SIGH* We're never going to get there at this rate... Well, if we have to, let's get moving.

The heroes seem to have made no progress towards Jupiter thus far. Will they ever make it there? And will Wai ever figure out how those grills work? All this and probably much less on the next episode of... THE NEVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER *slicing throat sound* uurght! *thunk*.
2004-12-24, 1:09 AM #330
As Ante, Young, Thrawnbot, Ahnuld, Qhobeg, Haggis and Otter climb down into the sewer, and the darkness utterly blankets their visions, festive and colorful Christmas lights turn on. A random group of people dressed in winter attire are standing nearby (who look suspiciously like the same group of people who were dressed in Thanksgiving attire and crashed the picnic), along with Helebon.

"Merry Christmas N-e-S!"

Then they all break out into song.

o/` Hark! the herald angels sing, -
"Glory to the newborn King!
Peace on earth, and mercy mild,
God and sinners reconciled."
Joyful, all ye nations, rise,
Join the triumph of the skies;
With th' angelic host proclaim,
"Christ is born in Bethlehem."
Hark! the herald angels sing,
"Glory to the newborn King!

Christ, by highest heav'n adored:
Christ, the everlasting Lord;
Late in time behold him come,
Offspring of the favored one.
Veil'd in flesh, the Godhead see;
Hail, th'incarnate Deity:
Pleased, as man, with men to dwell,
Jesus, our Emmanuel!
Hark! the herald angels sing,
"Glory to the newborn King!

Hail! the heav'n-born Prince of peace!
Hail! the Son of Righteousness!
Light and life to all he brings,
Risen with healing in his wings
Mild he lays his glory by,
Born that man no more may die:
Born to raise the sone of earth,
Born to give them second birth.
Hark! the herald angels sing,
"Glory to the newborn King!"o/`

Helebon then places a present nearby before walking off-panel and thus back to whence he came, as well as the random group of holiday-appropriate people.

Young: The tag says "To: NeS heroes, from: Helebon."

Haggis: Should we really open it? We've had bad experiences with mystery boxes in the past...

Otter: Open it!

Young: OK...

Young unties the ribbon and unfolds the wrapping, then opens the box. She pulls out...

Qho: A fruitcake?

Young: Is this a good present?

Ante: How evil...

Young: *taking a bite* And nutty.

(NSP: Happy Holidays, everyone! Hope they bring good tidings and whatnot :) )
The Plothole: a home for amateur, inclusive, collaborative stories
http://forums.theplothole.net
2004-12-30, 2:11 PM #331
In the Writer's Realm...

Geb the writer: Where is everyone?

*Geb the writer finds a note on his desk. He reads.*

Geb the writer: Hmmm...

Quote:
Dear Geb,

We all are celebrating the new year with our family and friends.


Pffft, writers these days and their "lives." They should be writing!

Quote:
Here's (scribble) five dollars. Stop thinking about NeS and go outside or whatever you consider fun...


*Geb the writers starts writing a NeS post*

Quote:
--besides writing for NeS!

Sincerely,
The NeS team.


Geb the writer: Going on strike gave them crazy ideas...*grumble*

Quote:
P.S. Stop grumbling. You slack just as much with the NeS webcomic.


Geb the writer: :mad:

*Gebohq takes the five dollars, then types up something before heading out of the offices...*
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((Start here and read up.))
The Plothole: a home for amateur, inclusive, collaborative stories
http://forums.theplothole.net
2005-01-01, 8:39 AM #332
*TLTE the Writer staggersinto the NeS offices, covered in party streamers and wearing a Happy 2005 party hat. In his drunken stupor, he trips and falls onto his desk. With paper clips, staples and other office paraphernalia digging into his cheeks, TLTE can distantly hear a ranting Gebohq the Writer.*

GebTW: How dare they enjoy real life?! I demand that they all get back to work immediately! Damn it, I'm going after them myself...

*A door slams. TLTE remains motionless, despite the quite extreme pain his face is reporting. Distantly, a car screeches to life and howls into the distance. There are screams of dismay, a loud crashing noise, and a mid-sized explosion. More screams of dismay, and now some of pain, are audible.*

TLTETW: Upon reflection, severing Gebohq's brake line was an ill-considered prank.

*At this moment, AnteTW and Cool MattyTW burst into the offices. They are both covered in ash and sweating.*

AnteTW: Everyone, come outside now! Someone tampered with Geb's brakes and he's crashed into the orphanage!

Cool MattyTW: The horror...the horror...

AnteTW: TLTE, grab a bucket and fill it with some water! The fire is spreading to the children's hospital!

*They dash out of the room.*

TLTETW: Ah, it was funny at the time.

*Further explosions and cries can be heard from outside.*

TLTETW: Maybe I should lay low until the fires are put out. Hmm, why don't I write some NeS?

*Prying himself free of the paperclips and staples, TLTE the Writer slouches into his chair and once more immerses himself in the wonderful world of the NeS...*

(NSP: Translation - a real post soon.)
The Last True Evil - consistent nobody in the Discussion Forum since 1998
2005-01-06, 7:42 AM #333
*The gas giant Jupiter, 5th planet from the sun. The very solar system that it occupies seems to pale in comparison to its girth, its magnitude. Surrounded by stars and planets, it is nonetheless the gaseous jewel of the Milky Way. In the face of this dazzling space opera, a solitary black spaceship flies ahead, launching itself through the opaque yet insubstantial outer layers.

There, just below the surface, a magnificent space station is hidden. Silver and almost gleaming, it sets a stark contrast against the thick gloom of the planet. The spacecraft jets straight ahead, slowing as a hidden hatch in the upper echelons of the structure unfolds, revealing a top-secret hangar. As soon as the ship is inside and landed, the doors swiftly seal shut and pressurise again, hissing shut with a degree of mechanical protest.

At the exact moment that this occurs, two silhouetted figures appear: one descending from the spacecraft ramp, the other approaching from a blast door leading into the complex. The figure from the spacecraft, as the light illuminates him, is the Blackguard - but a plot hole swirls around the other man, keeping him well hidden.*

Man: Ahh, my faithful Blackguard...how was Earth? I prefer the cold abyss of space, myself...it suits my demeanour better, I think.

*At this, the figure laughs to himself. The Blackguard regards him self-consciously, scraping ash and other battle marks off his face and armour.*

Blackguard: I have failed again, master. The Russian was well protected, and they ran before I could inflict serious damage.

Man: Ah, yes...'gebbing it', as the popular term these days happens to be. Back in my...halcyon days...we just called it running like hell!

*Once again, the dark man laughs hysterically, doubling over for a second...but then he leaps up and, screaming in rage, smashes a nearby control panel. Energy crackles from the man's hands, and the terminal is completely obliterated. Unconsciously, the Blackguard winces.*

Man: COWARDLY MAGGOTS! HOW DARE THEY! HOW D...how d....

*He covers his hands with his face. When he turns to face the Blackguard again, his expression is one of demure calm again.*

Man: Tell me, my monochromatic enforcer...who was with him?

Blackguard: A rag-tag collection of warriors: most of them humans, I believe, though I am certain I saw at least one android. There was a magic user too, though my armour proved effective against his attacks.

Man: Yes, yes...the mage was undoubtedly 'Cool Matty'. I know of him. Hardly an appropriate moniker for a magic wielder of his ability, is it? I would have expected 'Vesuvius', or "Morlock'....but 'Cool Matty'? And the android - Wandering AI? Wai?! Further proof that they're all losing it, the bunch of them!

Blackguard: A Viking also aided their defence. However, Gebohq was not present. Needless to say, I was unable to complete my secondary objective.

Man: Not there...fascinating...

*The Man begins to pace. The Blackguard, uncertain as to what to do, waits for him patiently.*

Man: Why would Gebohq, leader of the NeS, not come after his own sister? It doesn't make sense...unless...

Blackguard: My intelligence reveals that this Gebohq is not the most popular of folk. Any number of millions of people could have captured or killed him.

Man: Indeed. At any rate, he's out of the current picture. We need to focus on the heroes that Arkng Thand has sent after us, the self-righteous old fool.

Blackguard: Indeed.

Man: Did you at least manage to trace their current location?

Blackguard: Er...I did. They...they're currently refueling their...their...

Man: THEIR WHAT?!

Blackguard: ...their 'Flying Taco', master. It's a spacecraft that operates under the basic structure and principles of the...the taco.

*There is a pause.*

Man: They're refuelling their Taco.

Blackguard: Yes.

Man: It's a Taco.

Blackguard: Flying Taco.

Man: Flying Taco. And it needs refuelling to get here.

Blackguard: Intelligence suggests as much.

*For a moment, the two of them simply stare at each other. Then, the Man bursts out laughing...again.*

Man: Ohh, ohh...a Taco! The Last True Evil and his merry band...riding to the rescue on a Taco! This is too perfect!

Blackguard: Then I assume that I am not going to go out and destroy it?

*At this, the Man glares at him, steely-eyed.*

Man: Most certainly not. You are to wait here until they arrive. Then...we shall receive our guests together.

Blackguard: Are we to revive the woman now then?

Man: Her name...is Losien. Call her 'the woman' again and I'll put you back in your grave.

*The Blackguard is silent, staring at the ground. Finally, the Man speaks.*

Man: We shall receive our guests. Then, when all words are exchanged, I will deal with the Russian.

Blackguard: And what of his friends? What will we do with the other heroes?

*The dark man smiles, the first controlled display of mirth he has exhibited.*

Man: My dear friend...I am afraid we are out of beds here, so I will have to ask you to maim and kill every one of them!

*They both grin, and enter the station...*
The Last True Evil - consistent nobody in the Discussion Forum since 1998
2005-01-06, 11:49 PM #334
in another locale at 3AM

FordtW: *Yawnstretch* that was a wonderful 2 weeks Kat. christmas, new years...other things....but really kiddo, i gotta get back to work.

KatianatW: *purrs half-asleep*

FordtW: Great she's asleep i can sneak away now...*sneak sneak*

FordtW finally makes it to his desk. he clears away some dust, sneezes a few times. blows his nose... digs through his desk for some benedryl... gets up to get a glass of water to take it with.. returns to his desk, and turns on the computer... and digs up his nose...wipes it on the seat...rubs eyes...gets up for a cup of coffee...has to make a pot....turns out theres no sugar....goes back to his room for his coat...hey wait a minute...this looks like he's stalling!

FordtW: shhhhh!
procrastinating even!

FordtW: *whispering* Quiet!

i thought he had good ideas!?

FordtW: *a little louder* Stop it! *looks around nervously*

this is just great! i was looking forward to this stuff. i overheard some people he told them to talking at the watercooler...

[Cut to: FLashback of water cooler]

LosientW: So the he all like beats them and stuff!

MissFiretW: No, way!

Thrawn42689tW: yeah. too bad i'd have no idea where to take something like that or i'd steal it.

Los/missfiretW: yeah! :(

[cut back]

FordTW: *whispering still* do you have to flashback so loud do you want to..

geb: *at top of Geb lungs*FORD! OFFICE! NOW!

FordtW: Now look what you did!

Not my fault. you're the one not writing. Thbbbbbbbth. :P end of post. thanks come again.
My girlfriend paid a lot of money for that tv; I want to watch ALL OF IT. - JM
2005-01-11, 3:05 AM #335
((NSP: Eep! This thread's going down faster than a Catholic school girl! Er...

*ahem*

What I mean is, I should really make a post soon, especially since I've been getting loads of good matertial playing Half-Life 2. Until then, though, I need to punt this thread to where it belongs.))

Post
Until
Narrative
Text

P.U.N.T.!
The Plothole: a home for amateur, inclusive, collaborative stories
http://forums.theplothole.net
2005-01-16, 10:31 AM #336
Ante, Young, Thrawn42689 , Ahnuld, Qhobeg, Haggis and Otter continue to walk down the sewers when suddenly they come to a fork in the system.

Ante: Hmmm.. What should we do now?

Ahnuld: I say we pick that way!

Ahnuld points behind him

Ante: …We just came from over there.

Ahnuld: Yeah but it smells down here, and I know that way is safe.

Ante: Any other suggestions?

Qhobeg: We could split up.

Thrawn42689: Or we could follow the one with the light at the end of it

Haggis: That never works out, don’t you watch movies?

Otter: I do.

Haggis:

Young: I agree with Thrawn42689, lets split up. I mean, these tunnels can’t be THAT long…right?

Thrawn42689: Exactly!

Qhobeg: …Wait that was my idea!

Young: I agree with Qhobeg!

Ahnuld: I want to go with Thrawn42689 if we split up!

Thrawn42689: Fine. Ahnuld and I will go through the left tunnel, Ante, Young, and Qhobeg can take the middle tunnel, and Haggis and Otter can take the right one.

Ahnuld raises his hand

Thrawn42689: Yeah?

Ahnuld: What do we do if we see the packing company?

Thrawn42689: What the heck are you talking about, Ahnuld?

Ahnuld: The Green Bay Packing Company?

Thrawn42689: Y-y…I…Don’t worry about that. Anyway, are we all agreed on the plan?

Haggis: Yep.

Otter: Sure.

Ante: Yes.

Young: Uhuh.

Qhobeg: Indeed.

Ahnuld: Yay!

Ahnuld and Thrawn42689 continue to walk down the LEFT tunnel

Thrawn42689: Hey Ahnuld, how do you think the others are do-*crinkle*…hmm, what’s this?

Ahnuld: Looks like a paper! Read it! Read it!

Thrawn42689:

Ahnuld: Well?

Thrawn42689: Shh…be quiet…don’t you hear that?

Thrawn42689 and Ahnuld listen closely to the mysterious sounds that seem to be getting louder.

Thrawn42689 spots someone run across a pipe and into the shadows.

Thrawn42689: You! Get out of there! I can see you! Don’t make me and my huge robot friend kill you!

The mysterious figure approaches Thrawn42689

Mysterious Figure: The revolution is at hand, so please follow thy command. If you do not find the Obfuscated One, the world will end and all will be done.

Ahnuld: Hey, that rhymed!

The mysterious figure vanishes into the darkness

Thrawn42689: Wait, that must be one of those prophetish critters that Phil told us about?

Ahnuld: Man that thing was weird…Oh, right! What about that paper?

Thrawn42689: Oh yeah!

Thrawn42689 un-crinkles the piece of paper

Thrawn42689: Oh great, it’s ripped.

Ahnuld: What does it say?

Thrawn42689: I can’t tell it isn’t in any language I know. Here, just hold onto it, it might come into handy later.

Meanwhile Ante, Young, and Qhobeg search the MIDDLE tunnel

Ante: I’m getting sick of this.

Young: What?

Ante: This saving the world bit.

Qhobeg: Meh, I find it kind of cool.

Young: Weirdo.

Qhobeg: Whatever you say mix-n-match girl.

Young: …shut up.

Ante: Hey! Look at that!

Young: What? That paper? It’s a paper, woop-di-doo.

Ante picks up the paper and attempts to read it.

Ante: Whoa.. Must have been ruined by the water in here. I can’t read a single word of this. Bleh, besides it’s only half of a paper.

Ante tosses the paper on the ground and continues to walk and complain with Young and Qhobeg.

Haggis and Otter continue to walk down the RIGHT tunnel

Haggis: Walking…walking…walking…walking-*sigh*

Otter: hey, this isn’t so bad, we could be running…or somethin-Oh look a bunny!

Haggis: A wha? A bunny? In a sewer?

Otter: I swear I saw one. It just ran by. Shh..listen…

A Mysterious Figure appears infront of Haggis

Haggis: Ahh! That isn’t a bunny…what is that?

Mysterious Figure: Hello!

Otter: Who are you? What do you want?

Mysterious Figure: The codes that meet will be the key, paper unlocks more than metal for thee. Groups in pipes, I’ve seen all three, but only two of you have seen me! Mwahahaha!

The Mysterious Figure disappears into the darkness.

Otter: Sweet crap, what the heck was that?!

Haggis: You got me…

Oh no! Forced to split up! This could be a mess. Will Ahnuld and Thrawn42689 make it by themselves? Can Ante, Young, and Qhobeg handle the WRATH of the middle tunnel?! Will Haggis and Otter make it out alive?! What do the papers mean? What's with those crazy riddle-things?! Find out next time on.. The Never-Ending Story²[/b]
Think while it's still legal.
2005-01-25, 5:36 PM #337
(NSP: Grrrr! I blame the cold for my lack of postage. How about the rest of you? I'm going to take out my fustration on the NeS for being too idle!)

A post until narrative text!

P.U.N.T.!
The Plothole: a home for amateur, inclusive, collaborative stories
http://forums.theplothole.net
2005-01-26, 9:43 AM #338
In the brown shag carpet of a cheap motel, in the dark and dusty corner by the TV shelf, is a small reminder of a simpler time when a crumpled up pair of trousers lost a brand new dime. well you ask me how...

RAM: pssst, narrator

I'm a dime, i am fine. and i shine i'm fresly minted.

RAM: narrator, pssst..*grumbles while narrator continues to sing* HEY! YOU'RE ON THE AIR!

WSTFGL! *ahem* sorry. just got the new cake album and let me tell you it rawks my...

RAM: You're on..the air.

what? oh. right. um..now where did that script run off to...aha! here we are! At the HHH...

Maybe: Oh, TLTEClones 768, 653, and 912! Take m...*scratching record sound effect*

Heh, heh...erm...nevermind that..just a little something i work on in my spare time..heres the *REAL script*

In the Writers Realm, a fuming GebtW stands over FordtW, who appears asleep at his desk. GebtW pokes him a few times. then he pokes him harder. finally he just dumps him out of his chair.


FordtW: *still sleeping, but now on the floor.* Bzzwuh? Not a 3rd time, kat. A man needs his rest you know. go back to sleep i'll take care of you in the morning.

GebtW: Fraternizing with your fellow employees i see.

FordtW: *Snaps awake* No, no nononono! Would i do that to you, Geb? Havent you ever had dreams about co-workers?

GebtW: Well there was this one...Thats not the point. you were sleeping at your desk! that is seriously against regulations!

FordtW: Reguwotnow?

GebtW: Reg-u-lay-shuns! You know, rules? We do have them you know!

FordtW: Riiiiight.

GebtW: Well?

FordtW: Well what?

GebtW: What have you got to say for yourself? You were sleeping at your desk!

FordtW: Oh that. I was up late last night working on a post.

GebtW: Oh sure that expla...What did you say? A post? YAY! *rejoices to the heavens that he wont get fired*

FordtW: Right. Well heres what i got so far.. *tries to hand it to Geb, but hes too busy rejoicing to pay attention to FordtW's actual post.*

I'll take that. Thank you! aha! i have lines!

*Ahem*

In the Haunted House of Heroes, Ford the Hero is in the library. Where else? He's pouring over the book lined shelves, searching for god knows what. he passes over Time and Space: Cheating Your Way Through (In Vast Amounts of Pain) by The_Super_ZZTer, Administering Medication to Yourself and Others by Dr. D. Fleidermouse, and Keeping Ahead of Your Enemies, An Unfinished Novel by Erro Ohq. Finally, he came to rest upon a single title, The Mysterious Events of 1888 and Their Influence on the Future of Humanity and Maybe My Grandson by Arthur Ford.


Ford: Aha. I knew i could rely on my family for something.

just then a small figure in a labcoat come through the door

Dr. Dormouse: Say young man, you havent happened to see a mad scientist around here have you?

Ford: ...

Dr. Dor: oh right. no i meann another one. has a penchant for blue robots that like to shoot things? you know who i mean?

Ford: You mean qwerty? i really dont know. no one has seen him since we came out of the dreamstate.

Dr. Dor: Oh dear. Do you suppos you could help me find him? You cant seem to find proper transpondant defenestration modulators these days. i swear most people are savages. i just want to throw them out of a window!

Ford: Well i might be able to help you find him, but really i need your help. i need to find my great great grandfather.

Dr. Dor: Need help contacting the dead, do you? i might be able to help you, but my machines have been out of whack since that evil robotic hand wandered out of its cage. i dont know how it escaped. i only left the cage open a few months.

Ford: Um yeah, see, heres the thing. he's alive. and hes somewhere in this house. i just cant figure out where. i thought this book might be of use to me.

Dr. Dor: You mean that glowing ball of flame you're holding?

Ford: huh, AHh! no! i'm sure this would tell me exactly what i needed to know in precise steps! the family's always prided itself on that you know

Oh dear! Ford's only hope of ever finding out whats going on is now none other than Dr. Dormouse, deranged, myopic scientist who doesnt have a clue! Will Ford become informed? Will Dr. Dormouse ever get his transpondant defenestration modulator? Will the TLTEClones...OW..oh right.

See you next time on NeSquared: Hunt for the Wild Mustang!


Ford: OW! Fire hurts! Why didnt anyone tell me?
My girlfriend paid a lot of money for that tv; I want to watch ALL OF IT. - JM
2005-01-28, 5:04 AM #339
After a lengthy duration involving such trivialities as incorrect addresses, various takeaways, spicy pepperinoes by the shipload and, peculiarly, three brown bananas and a trumpet, we meet our heroes again on the Flying Taco VII…

Enchilada Man: Si! This time for sure, we are going to Jupiter!

As the ship careens through space, TLTE glances out of the window, noticing that, despite moving, they aren’t. Or something.

TLTE: Borsch! Won’t this… thing go any faster!?

Enchilada Man: Si! Si! Generic Sub-el-character, increase the Spicy Boosters!

The boosters flare into life, spicy sauce and pepperinoes squirting into the tanks and burning with a bright red, spicey flame. All is well, until a sick rumble rocks the ship.

Generic Sub-el-character: Ach! The engines canna tak it anymoore!

Enchilada Man: Es el pollo Diablo! Wait… I did not hire el-Scotsman!

GSeC: Ach, I was t’ only ‘ngineer t’ apply t’ t’ ad.

Krig: Krig smell burning.

Wai: We probably should slow down some. This can’t be good for the engines.

TLTE opened his mouth to speak before there was a rattling and a clunk from the side of the ship. The feeling of movement slowed.

Cool Matty: I think we’ve got a problem…

What happen? Did someone set them up the bomb? Will they move zig for great justice? Find out, sometime soon… on the NEVER-ENDING ST—gurk!

Tony: Um…. Hello? Is anybody there? This unnaturally white room is scaring me…
Hey, Blue? I'm loving the things you do. From the very first time, the fight you fight for will always be mine.
2005-01-28, 6:12 AM #340
CM: Houston... we have a problem...

Enchilda Man: Give me a status report!

Wai: What are you looking at ME for?

Enchilda Man: You are a robot, senor! Go out there and tell me what you see!

Wai: I'm not going out there! I could fall off!

Enchilda Man: All you robot types have magnetic feet, be creative senor!

Wai: No, not all robots have...

Suddenly, Wai is shoved into the airlock from behind. The airlock immediately closes, pressurizes, and sends Wai into space.

Wai: Well blast it all! There's nothing even to hold onto out here!

Inside the ship, looking through the window, is E-man, CM, and Krig, who are all waving and cheering Wai on.

Wai: *Sigh* They cannot even hear me. Well while I am out here, I might as well see what I can do...

Wai begins to walk very carefully down the ship. Suddenly, the ship rocks, and Wai is knocked away.

Wai: Damnit! I have to think fast, I'll be too far from the ship in just a few moments!

Wai runs through all the possible ways he can return to the ship.

Wai: No magnetics, no pressurized air, no rockets, aww bloody hell! Wait, my sword!

Wai pulls out his .hack//SWORD, and electrifies it as he does in battle. He gives it a special directional current, which magnetizes the sword. The sword swings itself over to the ship, and pulls Wai along with him.

Wai: Okay, that was just plain too close for comfort. I have to get back inside as quick as possible.

Wai runs over to the ship's engines, examines it, and runs back to the airlock.

E-Man: So? Que es la problema?

Wai: We're leaking fuel all over, and the engines have a huge crack down the side. I don't think it is repairable.

TLTE: An unfortunate turn of events, for sure.

E-Man: Well that leaves only one solution, amigos!

CM: What's that?

E-Man: Wai, you get to push!

Wai: Wait, what? No, I can't... I mean, I have no way of...

E-Man: Oh come on, senor! Don't fight it! Let's go, out the airlock with you!

Will Wai be forced out into space again? Will they ever reach Jupiter? And oh, the Zig! The poor, poor Zig!

Guy On Cell: How are you gentlemen?

What? No, not you again!!!

Guy On Cell: All your cells are belong to us!

Ahh! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! HE STILL LIVES!!!

Guy On Cell: You are on the way to destruction.[/i]

What you say!!!

Guy On Cell: You have no chance to survive make your time.

Must... resist....temptation... to continue....

Guy On Cell: Ha ha ha!

AHHHH!!!!

Guy On Cell: So, can you hear me now? Good!
2005-01-28, 7:03 AM #341
Onboard the Flying Taco VII, TLTE, Cool Matty, Krig, and the Enchilada Man stand around as Wai, having been shoved back into the airlock, tries to think of some way to push a spaceship in a weightless vaccuum. Meanwhile, the others ponder their unhappy situation.

CM: This is not good. What else can go wrong?

TLTE: In Soviet Russia, spaceships were constructed of tin and American Bubble Gum, and fueled with pure vodka.

CM: Okay, that's just a lie. Such a ship would explode.

TLTE: Da. This is true.

CM: Oh. Right.

Krig: Krig not like small can. Krig feel like fish in trap. Krig not like.

TLTE: Don't worry, little Viking! There is at least half an inch of metal between us and the cold deadly vaccuum of space! We are safe!

Krig: Krig see butterflies! Go away! Butterflies don't eat Krig!

Enchilada Man: El Grande Pollo! The tiny hungry one has the space sickness!

CM: The what?

Enchilada Man: The dreaded madness of the depths of space consumes his brain! Soon he will try to kill us all!

TLTE: Ah. What can we do?

Enchilada Man: We must tie him up and lock him in a closet, or he will attack all who cross his path!

CM and TLTE look at Krig, who is swatting at imaginary butterflies with enraged violence, and beginning to froth at the mouth. They look back at Enchilada Man.

TLTE: How about you tie him up, comrade?

Enchilada Man: No way Jose! I am the captain of this ship! I must pilot her to safety!

CM: Well I'm not going near him! He bites!

Just then, to emphasize the point, Krig begins gnawing on the back of Enchilada Man's captain's chair.

Enchilada Man: Por el gran ebrio raccoon! Get him off!

TLTE tries to grab Krig and pull him away from the chair, but Krig turns and snaps at his hand, narrowly missing TLTE's fingers.

TLTE: Borscht!

CM: Krig, friend, remember where you are? In space! With your friends! Please don't go crazy...er...

Krig: Rrraaaa! Krig see laughing monkey! Monkey laugh at Krig! Krig hate laughing monkey!

Krig runs over to a nearby window and begins headbutting it. The other three occupants of the cabin gasp in horror, and rush to pull Krig away. A brawl ensues as Krig violently lashes out at his friends.

Enchilada Man: Stop wrecking my ship, tiny vandal!

TLTE: Quick, grab his feet!

CM: OW! He bit me!

Just then, the airlock cycles open and Wai peeks in.

Wai: ...you idiots, there's no way to move a ship in -- oh, I see you're busy. I'll come back later.

CM: Help us, you idiot!

Krig: Arrrrgh!

TLTE: Aaagghhg, let go of my hair!

Enchilada Man: Filthy rascal, inconsiderate rapscallion! Madre de dios!

Just then, there is a giant shudder as the ship crashes into something. Everyone is thrown towards the front of the ship.

TLTE: Uggh...

Enchilada Man: Ayayay...

Krig: Rrrrrg...

CM: Ow! Your foot is in my eye!

Where have our heroes crash landed? Could they finally have arrived at Jupiter? Has Krig lost his mind? I mean, moreso than usual? Don't just sit there, wait until next post here at NeS to find out!
So sayest the Writer of Silly Things!
2005-01-28, 9:11 AM #342
*Suddenly, comprehension dawns on the crew. Well...comprehension dawns on most of the crew. The non-space-deranged crew.*

CM: We've...crashed into something? That can't be right, we weren't moving!

TLTE: Unless...

*Suddenly, the internal door to the airlock is blasted off its hinges, flying backwards into the control room and collecting Krig the Viking as it obliterates only the most expensive looking equipment the Flying Taco has to offer.*

Enchilada Man: !Hijole!

*Before the smoke clears, Wai leaps backwards out of the vaporised hole, shooting a broad stream of flame backwards at an unseen enemy through his arm-based launcher. He lands and skids across the floor, Max Payne style, coming to a halt near the crouched heroes. Everyone knows exactly what he is going to say before it is said, but the realisation is still shocking.*

Wai: We're being boarded.

*Meanwhile, Enchilada Man taps furiously at a nearby console.*

Enchilada Man: Amigos! Attack cruiser off the port bow!

TLTE: On screen!

*Enchilada Man slams his fist down onto a button, and on a large viewscreen in front of them the image of a roguish-looking individual appears. With long, black and greasy hair, a smuggler's jacket and trousers and a cynically cruel sneer, he is undoubtedly-*

Enchilada Man: A space pirate! Dios Mio!

Pirate: Good day, my friends...enjoying your space voyage, I hope?

*At that precise moment, a contingent of five similarly-dressed pirates rush through the ruined airlock. They are carrying strange-looking rifles, and as they begin to fire it is not ballistics, but long flashes of crimson that streak past the NeS heroes.*

TLTE: Lasers? Lasers?!

*He ducks behind the bridge railing, quick-drawing a throwing knife and dispatching the first pirate as he does so.*

CM: They must be stopped!

*The mage jumps and kicks off the wall, spreading his palms and enveloping the pirates in what can only be described as a flood of fire. They recoil, flee and die, variously.*

TLTE: Not bad, mageling. For a blatant showoff, that is!

*The comment goes unheard, however, as at that moment the ship is rocked by a large explosion. The flickering image of the pirate leader shakes with laughter.*

Pirate: Name's Midvok the Renegade, by the way. No offence to you: you've just flown past quite an important smuggling cache, and I'm obliged to shoot the stuffing out of you. Business, that's all. Ain't it a drag?

*Another wave of pirates suddenly appear, laser guns whining, forcing all the heroes to dive for cover.*

Enchilada Man: We must fight a two-pronged battle or all is lost!

*He draws his head back behind a steel panel just as a red flash engulfs it. TLTE, just above him, hidden behind the command chair, shouts his input over the sounds of battle.*

TLTE: Enchilada Man! You're a man of tactics: take the strategists of our team with you and repel the cruiser!

*Nearby, Wai nods, leaping with unerring speed from his hiding spot next to his Mexican ally. CM hesitates for a moment, launching a fireball as he speaks.*

CM: Are you sure, TLTE?

TLTE: Relax, kid...I know just how to talk to vagabonds who abuse the Communist ideal...

*The Russian springs out from behind cover, bringing out from his mystical trenchcoat an M-134 minigun.*

TLTE: Say hello to my little friend!

*And as 6000 rounds per minute begin to scatter across the floor, a certain demented Viking begins to push off the steel airlock door...*
The Last True Evil - consistent nobody in the Discussion Forum since 1998
2005-01-28, 10:13 PM #343
As TLTE lays down way too much covering fire, Enchilada Man, Cool Matty, and the Wandering AI leap into action, slipping through the airlock and into the enemy ship. It's all quiet for a moment, until another wave of pirates pours through the airlock into the Flying Taco, climbing over the pile of their fellow pirates and firing laser guns everywhere.

TLTE: Great Stalin's ghost, how many of these pirates are there?

TLTE lets loose with his monstrous firearm, tearing into the pirates and puncturing holes in the hull of the spaceship. Unfortunately, this hull is what is keeping the air inside the ship. It becomes very windy all of a sudden, as everything is sucked toward the countless bullet holes in the walls.

TLTE: Well, I guess that explains why they were using lasers and not highly explosive armour-piercing projectiles. I must remember not to do this in the future.

The remaining pirates quickly retreat to their own ship, while TLTE looks around for something to patch the holes. He finds nothing. Just then, another explosion outside rocks the ship, causing it to shudder violently.

TLTE: I do not think this ship will last long. I must give the order to evacuate! Where is the intercom?

TLTE looks around and sees a big red button labeled "Intercomunicador". He hits it. Immediately, sirens start blaring.

Ship Voice: Advertencia! Treinta sobras hasta que mismo - destrucción! Warning! Thirty seconds until self - destruction!

TLTE: By Lenin's tomb, who would label a self-destruct button "Intercom"? This is madness!

From below comes the sound of running feet, and four people appear: a short fat guy, a tall skinny guy, a really tall muscular guy, and a hot chick in combat boots.

Miss Fire: What's going on?

TLTE: No time to explain! We've been boarded by pirates, our air is quickly leaking, and Krig here accidentally hit the self-destruct button!

Krig (from underneath the airlock door): Ugh... Krig frolick with mooses in rainbows...

TLTE: We must evacuate quickly! Follow me!

TLTE tosses his mini-gun aside, having used up all the ammo anyway. He pulls a shotgun out from under his coat, and heads toward the airlock.

Miss Fire: We can't abandon my brother's ship!

TLTE: We have to, we have no time -- wait. The Enchilada Man is your brother? You look nothing alike!

Miss Fire: Well, I take after my mother. You see, she was a ballerina in the Royal Moncton Ballet who--

TLTE: No time for backstories! We have only ten seconds now!

Krig, having managed to get out from under the heavy door, stumbles around the windy deck, mumbling something about tax reform and Bob Dole. TLTE grabs him by his Viking Cloak and hauls him toward the airlock.

TLTE: We've waited long enough, there is just barely enough time for a heroic escape! Come on!

TLTE pulls Krig through the airlock. Miss Fire and the three other guys (who, incidentally, appear to be the members of some sort of mariachi band, what with their funny getups and guitar cases) look at each other for a moment, and then dash for the open portal. They just barely slip through, and TLTE slams the door closed behind them, as the Flying Taco VII erupts into an enormous ball of fire and salsa. The pirate ship, roughly three times larger than its prey, rocks back and forth from the explosion, but is not otherwise damaged. Inside the dark and spooky space pirate ship, the six intrepid astronauts (well, five astronauts and a cosmonaut) crouch behind a bulkhead as TLTE checks his weapons.

Miss Fire: Well, there goes another one. My brother's not gonna be happy....

TLTE: He should be relieved. That ship was a deathtrap. And I am Russian, I know about deathtraps!

Big Muscley Mariachi Guy: What now, señor?

TLTE: We have only one choice. We must somehow take control of this ship. Only then can we get to Jupiter and rescue my beloved.

Miss Fire: How are we going to do that? This ship is huge, and filled with space pirates!

TLTE: There is only one solution. Lots and lots of shooting.

Miss Fire: Oh.

Miss Fire pulls two very large pistols from the holsters at her sides.

Miss Fire (grinning): Sounds like my kind of plan.

Oh no! Not the beloved Flying Taco VII! However will our fearless galactic adventurers escape this one? Will Krig's Space Madness cause problems? Would a monkey eat a ripe turnip if it was offered to him? These are questions to which I can give no answer, because my contract specifies I shouldn't be revealing plot before it happens! Keeping tuning in to find out!

Also, you could just write what happens and post it. Y'know, this being an Interactive story and all...
So sayest the Writer of Silly Things!
2005-01-29, 11:45 AM #344
*Antestarr, Young, and Qhobeg continued to walk down the dank hall of the London Sewer System*

Qhobeg: You know, I've been thinking about those furry critters. We should call them something. I was thinking something like "Tribbles."

Ante: Okay, Mr. Star Trek.

Qhobeg: Star what?

Ante: Star Trek.

Qhobeg: What trek?

Ante: Star Trek!

Qhobeg: What what?

Ante: *sigh* Nevermind. Anyway, if we call them that, I'm pretty sure we'd get sued. Again.

Young: What trouble could a name cause?

Ante: It all comes down to the paranoia over intellectual property...

*As Ante was about to enter a speech about the legal use of intellectual property, the texture of the ground changed from the coarse, damp surface of a sewer to the sterile tile of a technological facility. The walls and ceiling, too, began to feel more modern. The three stopped as they reached a doorway stood before them.*

Qhobeg: So, uh... do we open it?

Ante: I don't see why not. It's at the end of our tunnel, and the worst case scenario is that a purple impaler pops out and we have to run for our lives. And really, would that be so different from our past adventures?

Young: So, you mean we run a lot?

Ante: It's more of a need to follow the survival instinct until we can wrest control from a villain with the upper hand.

Qhobeg: Ok, here goes.

*Qhobeg slid open the door with a loud creaking sound and electric light suddenly pierced the dim hallway from the other side. As their eyes adjusted, they saw before them a technological wonderland, full of computers and machinery the likes of which rivalled the labs of MIT.*

Ante: I swear this wasn't in the London sewers before...

*Atop the counters and desks were assorted conical hats and confetti releasing devices. From the ceiling hung a banner declaring "We Welcome the Obfuscated One!" However, the lack of any signs of life amongst the machines brought a contrast to the scene of a would-be joyous occasion.

Upon entering the room, a sudden sound ripped through the silence. Neither the sound of life, nor the sound of that which brings death. It was the sound of a cell phone ringing.*


Ante: Sorry guys, that's me. This should only take a minute.

*Speaking into the phone* It's me, what's the situation? ... I understand you couldn't reach me, it was likely due to being in a sewer while the artificial satellites around this planet are in the control of Helebon. ... Yeah, I think he's some kind of lovechild of Hel and Cinnabon. ... There's likely some kind of communications array in this room hijacking one of his satellites. ... Pirates? In our airspace? ... With extreme prejudice of course. ... Giant taco, eh? Well, if there was anyone important, I'm sure they'll be able to find their own way through it. Let's show these fools how we do things in the Outer Rim.

*Hanging up the phone. So, where were we?

------------------------

*Aboard the Space Pirate vessel, a somewhat short man wearing a bandanna over his head and an eyepach who had not shaved in at least 2 weeks fumbled his way across the bridge.*

Strangeley Clad Fellow: Yarr, Cap'n Midvok, there be hostiles readying the long nines for a raking shot across the port bow!

Midvok: Hadley, how many times do I have to explain to you, despite the fact that we're pirates and you are my first mate, the whole "pirate lingo" went out with bellbottoms...?

1st Mate Hadley: Arr... Sorry, Cap'n.

Midvok: *sigh* Just bring them on screen.

*The HUD on the front viewscreen of the bridge suddenly zoomed in on two swept-wing fighters, armed with mass driver cannons, FF missiles, and quantum torpedoes.*

Midvok: I've never seen ships like those before... but judging from the loadout, they could punch a hole in an Ambassador class Space Station. Open a channel to the pilots.

1st Mate Hadley: The fools be not repsonding!

Midvok *announcing over the intercom*: All hands, level one battlestations. Man the turreted lasers. Take down those oncoming fighter craft.

*Turrets rise from the exterior of the pirate vessel, taking aim at the small fighters. The fighters quickly break off from formation and swing in opposite directions, working their way towards the bottom of the ship. En route, the fighters transform into a humanoid configuration and attach themselves firmly to the bottom hull of the pirate vessel.*

Midvok: Modular fighters. No good can come of this....

(edit: apparently the content filter didn't like one of my words)
Pereant qui ante nos nostra dixerunt.
2005-01-31, 9:27 PM #345
Meanwhile (NeS count: Desmond?), in the Haunted House of Heroes...

Maybe: Mega_ZZTer!

*sounds of things crashing to the floor*

MZZT: OW!... what?

Maybe: Have you seen Ford lately?

MZZT: Why are you quoting car commercials?

*Maybe gives MZZT a look*

MZZT: Oh right, Ford. I dunno.

Maybe: You're not the least bit concerned?

MZZT: What? He's a big boy. You don't need to be his mother.

Maybe: What the-- what the hell? This place is crawling with ghosts--

MZZT: Float.

Maybe: What?

MZZT: Float. Or perhaps linger. Ghosts don't crawl. Zombies crawl, but I haven't seen any of those.

Maybe: Since when did you become a stickler on the use of words? You're like... a tech guy.

MZZT: I'm not just a tech guy, thankyouverymuch!

Maybe: I'm sorry, but your remark on me using the word "crawling" just-- GAH! I just don't want our friends being mauled by the supernatural while on the john! Is that so much to ask for?

MZZT: Oh, is that all? Geb and Highemp excorsized most of the ghosts and stuff when we first got here. We kept the haunted house sign though because we felt it was a nice change from "no tresspassers." And it was already there, no extra work.

Maybe: ...

MZZT: What?

Maybe: Crawling...

MZZT: Oh, the bugs. Geb and Highemp didn't excorsize those things. I suppose we could call an exterminator, but the last time I went near a phone the cockroaches were ordering an extra large with the works.

Maybe: ...

MZZT: Are you OK?

Maybechild walks away, aimlessly down a random hallway, muttering to herself.

MZZT: Hmm.

The Mega_ZZTer continues with his mess-o-work. Moments later, Subaru walks in.

Sub: Mega!

*The sound of lots of crashing metal things falling to the floor answers Subaru's call.*

MZZT: Ow...

Sub: Have you seen Maybe?

MZZT: Maybe what?
The Plothole: a home for amateur, inclusive, collaborative stories
http://forums.theplothole.net
2005-02-04, 12:17 AM #346
(NSP: Because I need to break unwritten rules about how one posts when I can, and because you all are slacking on your duty to keep NeS 2 days or newer ;) And because writing a post when you're under the influence of tiredness, drunkeness, or otherwise thinking unclearly produces good NeS posts ^_^)

Within the deep and aloof chambers that are now Helebon's citadel on Earth, Gebohq sleeps. He is wasting away, his clothes are dirty, and he has not seen another human being in... well, it is hard to tell where Geb is, but still he sleeps, on the hard floor, and strangely at peace. At this point, Helebon enters in view, outside Gebohq's make-shift cell.

Helebon: Beat it, Narrator. I need some private time to "talk."

With your fists, I'm sure. Poor Geb--

Helebon: I said beat it! Before I beat YOU!

*Helebon looks around, listening.*

Helebon: ...good.

*Helebon motions to someone just out of view, presumably guards to keep post, as he unlocks the cell door and enters, locking it behind him. He looms over the sleeping Gebohq.*

Helebon: Geeeeeehbooooooooohq....

*Geb continues sleeping.*

Helebon: God damn it, people these days just don't get freaked out by a scary voice.

*Helebon proceeds to kick Gebohq.*

Geb: *mumbles*...I'm awake, the answer's 12.

Helebon: I'm here to turn your life into a living hell, Gebohq! And today is the first day of the rest of your life. *toothy smile*

Geb: Good morning Helebon. It is morning, right?

Helebon: Oh give it a break already! I'm not falling for your tricks.

Geb: Tricks?

Helebon: Let's cut down to the chase.

*Helebon whips out a nasty-looking knife.*

Helebon: You see this? I intend to tortue you with this. You know how bad one paper cut feels? How about a hundred?

Geb: No questions to ask?

Helebon: No questions.

Geb: Why don't you kill me?

Helebon: Really, I'm a villian, what do you expect? Besides, I still may need you alive.

Geb: How fortunate.

Helebon: STOP THAT!

Geb: Stop what?

Helebon: Stop acting like I'm... I'm your friend!

Geb: You are not my friend, Helebon. You are my enemy.

Helebon: Then curse my name! Say "God damn you!" or something!

Geb: But I am suppose to love my enemies.

*Helebon clutches his head as if preventing it from exploding.*

Helebon: What the hell! I'm a ****ing DEMON!

Geb: And?

Helebon: You''re a fool to think you can change a demon's heart! We oppose all that your God stands for! What makes you think He won't cast you away with us?

Geb: I don't know what will happen anyway.

Helebon: ...this isn't a trick, is it?

*Gebohq shakes his head rather pitifully.*

Helebon: It must be your failing human body breaking down. Your mind can't handle it.

Geb: Blame it on that if you wish. Or foolish heroic principles. This prison cell is rather disheartening.

Helebon: It better be! And the day's only started!

*Helebon grabs Gebohq's arm and raises the knife, ready to slice. He stops, however, as Gebohq shows no resistance. It is obvious both are fighting their natural instinct, but Helebon stands examining Gebohq's face. Geb's eyes are looking right into Helebon's, his face expressing...hope?*

*Helebon steps away, then suddenly hurls the knife towards Gebohq. Gebohq flinches, then turns to see the knife embedded into the wall. Helebon storms out of the cell.*

Helebon: It's only a matter of time before you realize the truth, and when you do, I'll be here. You won't die until you've suffered.

*Helebon locks the door behind him and leaves.*
The Plothole: a home for amateur, inclusive, collaborative stories
http://forums.theplothole.net
2005-02-04, 10:53 PM #347
(NSP: THIRD POSTAGE! Though nothing much.)

<<WARNING! WARNING! TWENTY PERCENT STRUCTURAL INTEGRITY! LIFE SUPPORT FAILING! GUIDENCE SYSTEM OFFLINE-->>

Midvok: Shut that thing off!

1st Mate Hadley: Aye aye.

The first mate hits a button, which promptly explodes in a fountain of sparks. The first mate thus becomes new pals with the metal floor.

Midvok: Must...retreat.

Midvok attempts to pilot the ship manually towards the closest moon orbiting a red planet. Elsewhere on the ship...

CM: What the hell is happening?

TLTE: *looking out a port* It would appear we're making a Soviet landing?

CM: Soviet landing?

TLTE: Hold on to something tight.

CM: Oh.

The spaceship begins making its shakey descent towards the moon surface...

(NSP: Just wanted to make available the potential for a good Total Recall/Doom/Wild West spoof-thing. All the pieces are in place now <_<)
The Plothole: a home for amateur, inclusive, collaborative stories
http://forums.theplothole.net
2005-02-05, 4:16 AM #348
The pirate ship rocked and rolled on a descent that commuters flying on Communist Soviet Russian Secret Intelligence Airlines would regard as a common event, but there were two problems with that. One, the ship wasn’t part of Communist Soviet Russia Secret Intelligence Airlines, and two, most of the people on this ship hadn’t flown Communist Soviet Russian Secret Intelligence Airlines. Except TLTE, and that had been many, many pages ago.

Midvok: Oh, no. Not again.

Entering the atmosphere, the ship lurched like nothing before. Most of our NeS heroes on the ship were not feeling too good, as it were.

Finally, after three bone-rattling Communist Soviet Russian Secret Intelligence Airlines-worthy minutes, the ship touched down with all the grace of a leprotic ostrich that, somehow, had gained the ability to fly, and then lost it thirty meters up.

CM: What a colourful metaphor.

TonyTW: I try.

CM: … Nevermind.

Behind the ship was quite a long and deep furrow that had been gouged on impact. TLTE steps, quite nonchalantly, out of the now smouldering and pinging wreckage. CM follows him, rubbing his head. Wai appears, looking pretty much unscathed, dragging a rather battered Krig.

Wai: We all here?

Krig: Krig like pretty girly dresses…

CM: I think that’s all of us… we should wait around before we move. Krig’s in pretty bad shape. At least the pirates are finally gone.

Midvok: Almost!! Hahaha…

Midvok’s repartee is cut short by a barrage of coughing, echoing from the other side of the wreckage.

CM: You know, you con’t actually say thst loud enough to hear us!

Midvok: Blast! I mean… um…

Wai: So… how much food have we got?

TLTE peers into the aforementioned wreckage and sighs.

TLTE: Two cans of dog food, a tube of bonjela, and a pot noodle.

CM: I know what we’re eating last. I can’t stand pot noodles.

Gasp and alarm! What’ll our heroes going to do now? Where, exactly, are they? Why does this place have a breathable atmosphere despite being a moon? All this, and more, will be found out on our next installment! Don’t touch that… um… URL!
Hey, Blue? I'm loving the things you do. From the very first time, the fight you fight for will always be mine.
2005-02-07, 4:33 AM #349
*Minutes later, the unfortunate heroes are assembled around a small fire created by one of Wai's discarded fuel tanks. Cool Matty and his android accomplice talk quietly amongst themselves, while TLTE pokes at the fire with sullen abandon. Only Krig has turned to doing something productive: with scholarly determination on his addled face, he attempts to give himself beard dreadlocks.*

TLTE: This is awful. Just...awful.

CM: I wonder if Mimiru is alright...

Krig: Krig be jammin'!

TLTE: I mean, apart from TonyTW referencing Red Dwarf a few minutes ago, this has got to be the lowest point in our character histories yet.

CM: I should never have left her alone. Why did I listen to Arkng Thand and help these buffoons?

Krig: Krig love Jah.

TLTE: I mean, we've all been maimed, shot and in some cases out-and-out killed in this crazy life, but nothing is quite as bad as the marooned-on-a-distant-planet-blues, da?

CM: That's it! I'll just stop this contrived plot exposition, whack them all over the head with my staff and...walk...home?

Krig: Krig need copy of Master Blaster.

Wai: Enough!

*The diminutive Wai stands up all of a sudden, breaking them from their individual monologues.*

Wai: Gordon Bennet! I'm not even programmed with specific response emotions and you're annoying the cyborg pants off me! Just shut up and listen for a while, will you?

*At this moment, a figure suddenly steps out of the darkened wreckage into view.*

TLTE: Midvok the Renegade!

Midvok: The very same...how is your little campfire, my scouts?

CM: Look, just piss off, will you?

Midvok: ...what?

Wai: He's right. We've done battle with murderers, mad scientists, ghosts, demons, undead monsters and insidious anti-stories in the last few pages alone. And this is only the sequel to the original epic! You...are a space pirate.

TLTE: An unwashed space pirate.

CM: An unwashed, unarmed space pirate.

Krig: Beard locks.

Wai: You're about as threatening to us as a tub of rash ointment. Just leave now and save us the trouble of killing you.

*Midvok's back stiffens, and his wrists clench and unclench...but a strange grin materialises on his face.*

Midvok: You know what? You're absolutely right...give me a minute to find something out of the wreck and I'll be right back!

*He turns on his heel and marches back into the ex-ship.*

TLTE: A strange fellow. He reminds me of the legendary pirate lord, Dean Martin.

CM: Dean Martin was a famous singer. He was in the Rat Pack.

TLTE: But you see my point, don't you?

CM: Well, er....

*Suddenly, Midvok walks back into their midst.*

Midvok: You'll be glad to know that I found what I really needed!

Wai: A breath mint?

Midvok: No! My weapons!

*From behind his back he brandishes two shining cutlasses. The firelight catches on the blades, reflecting a polished gold. They are swords of excellent craftsmanship, well-balanced and imposing.*

Midvok: Only a space pirate, am I? I'm Midvok the Renegade, damn you!

CM: He's armed! Quick everybody, to me! I will - ....

Wai: Wait a minute-

CM: Those swords look familiar...aren't they...

TLTE:...Absolver's?
The Last True Evil - consistent nobody in the Discussion Forum since 1998
2005-02-07, 6:26 AM #350
Midvok: What? These things? No way! I bought these a long time ago! They are mine!

CM: I dunno, they look an awful lot like Absolver's....

Midvok: I swear! They were on sale at Wal-Mart! 2 for $3!

Wai *Using enhanced magnification*: But it even has Absolver's name on the hilts...

Midvok: Lies! All of them! These are mine! Mine I tell you!

TLTE: I will not let Absolver's weapons be taken by a lowly pirate such as you!

Midvok: That's Space Pirate, to you!

Suddenly, out of nowhere, an orange ship lands.

TLTE: What the blazes? What is that?

Wai: Judging by its structural design, color, odd propulsion system, and the person climbing out, I'd say that is Samus Aran's spaceship.

CM: Samus... as in THE Samus?

*Jumping down off the ship* Samus: One and the same! Hello boys! I received a distress signal coming from a ship that belongs to a good friend of mine, Enchilada Man.

Krig: Can't touch Krig... na na na na...

CM: Quiet Krig! Samus... you are friends of Enchilada Man?

Samus: Why of course! He's well known in this galaxy. Makes a mean chili!

TLTE: Well as interesting as that is, we have a certain situation with a certain space pira...

Samus: SPACE PIRATE? WHERE?!

Samus powers up here Power Beam, and looks around. Finally, her eyes fall upon Midvok.

Midvok: Oh no, not Samus. Why her? I'm out of here!

Midvok quickly bounds up and over a crater, taking off in the opposite direction. Samus fires off a shot, blowing up the edge of the crater.

Samus: Blasted Space Pirates! I'll get you!

Samus jumps up, and over the crater in a beautiful show of athletic ability and her suit's screw attack.

CM: Well that was certainly interesting...

TLTE: Quickly! We must follow! I must get Absolver's weapons back!

Wai: Wait! Why don't we take Samus's ship and fly out of here?

CM: Are you suggesting we STEAL Samus's ship?!

Wai: Not steal, just borrow! It's not like she needs it at the moment!

TLTE: Blast! Now what to do? ...

TLTE contemplates for a great while, weighing his options, and his priorities...

Wai: I thought your only goal was to rescue Losien! This is your chance, TLTE! Let's go!

TLTE: But Absolver, I cannot just let a friend's remains go... he sacrificed himself honorably. He will not be at peace without his weapons at his side.

Wai: Then you would wish to make Losien wait?

TLTE: I am sorry Losien... a dear friend is in need. I hope you will understand. All I can ask, is that you hold on for me, while I go. I shall be quick as lightning about this task! But wait... what if you fall into danger? I cannot possibly risk that! I must go to you immediately! Oh, what should I do...

CM: How long is he going to ramble? He acts as if Losien can actually hear him...

Wai: I don't know. Frankly, I try not to understand anyone anymore.

What shall TLTE choose? What will happen to Absolver's weapons? What does Midvok's possessions mean? And what will happen to Midvok and Samus? Find out whenever we get around to answering these questions, if ever, on the next... NEVER EBBING STORY!

*ring*

Narrator: Hello?

Guy on Cell: It's Ending, not Ebbing.

Narrator: Huh? Oh! Oh thank you, I'll correct that. Who is this, by the way?

Guy on Cell: Well, I have no name... but could you answer one question?

Narrator: What is that?

Guy on Cell: Can you hear me now?

Narrator: Ye... wait... YOU! YOU!!!! WHY YOU LITTLE! If I find out where you live, I am going to shove your cell phone down your throat!

Guy on Cell: Good! Aahahahahahahahhhhaahahaha!!!!
2005-02-07, 3:11 PM #351
So an Albino Midget Yak appeared out of nowere and called everyone a credit union
I wish i was a monkey then I would have a good reason to fling poo.
2005-02-07, 5:54 PM #352
Clomp.

Splash.

Clomp.

Splash.

Clomp.

Splash.

Clomp.

Spl-


"Will you cut it out already? You're getting sewage on my knickers."

"But it makes me feel POWERFUL! Like a rampaging rhinoceros."

"You're a killer robot. What more do you want?"

"I want to be...a roly-poly."

"A wh--"

"A GIANT roly-poly!"

"Great, I'm sure you'll have a blast."

"Yay! So, have you figured out the mysterious riddle yet?"

"Yes."

"Wow, really?"

"No."

"Haha, good one."

Silence.

Two figures walk onward, down the tunnel.


"Do you ever wonder if--"

"No."

"Okay, okay."

More silence.

"Hahahaha, Thrawn, you farted! Haha! Eew."

"What?"

"Eew."

"What's that noise?"

"That noise is YOU FARTING! God, is that an extra feature or what?"

"Do you see a light over there?"

"Yeah! It's the light at the end of the tunnel!"

"It's getting closer. And that noise is coming from over there."

"I see another light. Whoa, another one!"

"There are a lot of them, aren't there."

The floating bladed robots descend upon the two anti-heroes like gulls upon a bag of cheetos.
2005-02-09, 9:32 PM #353
Through the slime-covered tunnels of the London sewer system, two Heroes trudge. The Otter, replete in black trenchcoat, grungy black t-shirt, black jeans, black combat boots, black shades, and a bowler hat, is in the lead, plodding alond with a determined pace and one hand held high. In it curls a small Vulcan Flame, lighting the dripping walls in a flickering orange glow. Behind him walks Cooked Haggis, holding the white cloth draped over his arm as far away from the sludge through which they trudge as possible, stepping carefully so as to avoid splashing his otherwise-immaculate tuxedo any further. His expression is one of intense concentration, the pointy little mustaches on his upper lip twitching unconciously.

With a **SCHLOPP!**, Haggis slips in the slime and splashes sewer-water all over his pants.


Haggis: AAAaagh! I've had bloody well enough! I can't take this anymore! This place is filthy and disgusting, and some of these stains will never come out! Do you know how expensive an official Snooty Waiter tuxedo is?

Otter: Oh, shut up or I'll give you a belt 'round the head! This is like the tenth time you've said that, you prissy pansy!

Haggis: Pansy?! I'll have you know that in Waiter School, each and every potential waiter is required -- required, mind you -- to clean a full pot of encrusted lasagna vomit with his bare hands! And that's the bloody easiest thing we have to do in the whole year!

Otter: Oh boo bloody hoo! You're not in waiter school now, are you? So suck it up and take it like a man!

Haggis: Suck it up? We're walking through a sewer filled ankle-deep with human bloody waste!

Otter: So? All we ne-- human waste?

Haggis: Where did you bloody think it bloody went after you flushed the bloody loo?

Otter: Um... huh. So... this muck...

Haggis: Straight from the crapper.

Otter: AAAAAHHHHH!!!!

Otter takes off running, splashing like mad down the echoing tunnel, taking the flickering light with him. Haggis stands in the dark, unable to see anything at all.

Haggis: Well... that didn't work out well. Otter? Hey Otter... wait for me! Bloody idiot, he'll get us all killed one of these days...

Haggis walks as quickly as he can through the sewer, calling out Otter's name. After a while, he gets a response, echoing from wall to wall from somewhere far ahead.

Haggis: Otter?

Otter: Haggis! I've found something!

Haggis: Where are you?

Otter: Over here!

Haggis: That doesn't help me, you nincompoop! I've come to a junction, which one did you take?

Otter: Um... the one that has "Stay Out Or Die" scratched into the wall!

Haggis: Well I can't bloody well see that, now can I? And why would you take the route that threatens you with death, you moron?

Otter: Uh... I don't know!

Haggis: Well which way is it, right or left?

Otter: Left!

Haggis: About bloody time, I --

Otter: No, wait, right!

Haggis: What?

Otter: I don't know! I've always had trouble telling the difference!

Haggis: Well come back here and show me, then!

Otter: What?! I'm not going back in that mess! It's disgusting!

Haggis: You've found a dry spot?

Otter: Yes, I -- Left! It was left, I remember now!

Haggis: You'd better be right, you bloody waste of oxygen!

Otter: You know, it hurts my feelings when you say things like that...

Haggis: Oh, suck it up you pansy!

Otter: Like that! That was completely uncalled for! I don't go around calling you names, now do I, you useless excuse for a -- oh, hello.

Just then, Haggis stumbles into the pool of light cast by Otter's flame. He looks decidedly disheveled.

Haggis: If you ever leave me in the bloody, smelly dark again, you useless torpid cud-chewing half-brained --

Otter: Nevermind that now, look what I've found!

Otter gestures toward a door in the wall. On it is a sign marked "Big Ben: Sewer Access 12. Do Not Enter."

Haggis: Oh, all right. You're not quite useless at times. The rest stands, though.

Have Haggis and Otter discovered a way to infiltrate Helebon's fortress and drive the demon-hordes out of London? If so, will they? A good question, since I've noticed that our implacable Heroes are occasionally prone to fits of cowardice and laziness! Stay tuned to find out!
So sayest the Writer of Silly Things!
2005-02-15, 11:47 PM #354
RING RING RING!

Gebohq jitters as the ringing breaks the silence.

RING RING RING!

He looks in confusion as he pulls out a cellphone from his pants pocket -- something that apparently wasn't taken away. He answers the phone.

Geb: Hello?

Voice on Cell: Can you hear me?

Geb: Yes, I can hear you. Who is this?

Voice on Cell: Good... Can you hear me now?

Geb: No... oh dear Lord no! NOT YOU!

Guy on Cell: Good!

Geb: GAAAAAHHHHH!!!

Geb chucks the cellphone outside the barred cell window.

Guy on Cell: Bwahahahahha....

One minutes and six seconds later, within the Citadel's walls but much farther down...

Demon: Doo-dee-doo... doin' my patrol...what the--

Cellphone lands on the demon's head, knocking him out. Just then, CookedHaggis and The Otter emerge from an underground entrance.

Haggis: Well what luck, the guard seems to be asleep on the job.

Otter: Hey look, a cellphone!

The Otter nabs the cellphone and puts it in a pocket. CookedHaggis and The Otter continue to make their way into the inner sanctum of Helebon's Citadel...

(NSP: OK, not much of a post, but more than I had in mind <_<)
The Plothole: a home for amateur, inclusive, collaborative stories
http://forums.theplothole.net
2005-02-16, 2:36 AM #355
Inside the former Hall of Heroes, now Helebon's insidious stronghold (insidious? what the heck? how can a stronghold be insidious?), Helebon sits at a desk, doing some paperwork.

Helebon: Hmm, looks like traffic's getting pretty congested in the downtown area. What shall I do about this? I know! I shall take every other driver, skin him alive, and feed his bloody corpse to a pack of starving weasels! That'll solve the problem!

Just then, there is a knock at the door.

Helebon: Go away or I'll disembowel you and your whole family!

Just then, the door smashes open, flying off its hinges, across the room, splattering an unfortunate hench-demon into a wall. Ares stands in the doorway, burning in satisfaction.

Ares: I am Ares, the true master of the NeS! I have come to claim what is mine!

Helebon: Ares... Ares... Greek, right? God of plows?

Ares: God of WAR! I will destroy you for your insolence!

Helebon: Insolence? You dare take that tone of voice with ME?

Ares: FOOL! I could destroy you with but a flick of my wrist!

Helebon: Impudent upstart! You are nothing but a maggot before my dark and terrible power!

Ares: A maggot whose might dwarfs your own to such a degree that it would be hilarious if it were not so terribly awe-inspiring!

Helebon: I see you have lost your mind, for who but a megalomaniacal madman could ever possibly believe such insipid nonsense?! I am invincible!

Ares: I am the killer of that which is invincible!

Helebon: Yeah, well I am invincible to people who can kill invincible people, too!

Ares: What a co-incidence, I can kill those sort of people, too! I am the god of WAR!

Things go on like this for several hours, until...

Helebon: I'm... rubber... you're... glue...

Ares: No... way...

Helebon: Yes... way...

Ares: No... way...

Helebon: This is getting us nowhere. Truce?

Ares: Sure. That means I win the argument.

Helebon: It does NOT, you arrogant son of a cockroach!

Ares: Stupidhead!

Helebon: Vomit-breath!

Ares: Ugly-face!

And so, the two metaphysical immortal beings of immense power continue their epic struggle. Who will emerge victorious? Will ANYONE emerge victorious? Is it indeed possible in this sort of battle? Only time will tell -- time, and maybe a generous bribe or two. Slip me a twenty and I might be able to let you in on a secret or two of the Never-ending Stoooorrrrryyyyyyyy!!!!
So sayest the Writer of Silly Things!
2005-02-16, 1:28 PM #356
When last we left Ford the Hero, he was holding onto the flaming remains of what once was an amazingly convenient book. As of right now, hes merely trying to get the searing pain in his hand to stop. as such, he hardly notices the oily whisper of a well kept secret passage opening.

Ford: *grumbling* damn flaming booby traps. Hey doc, you got anything in that minilab of yours that could help me out? Not gonna risk a healing spell. not after the last time. i'm still picking hair out of my palms. well one of them.

Dr. Dor: Hm...third degree burns...well mayhap mayhap let me see...

as Dr. Dor and Ford worry over Ford's injury a shadowy figure(NeScount # 587) loooms in the vacancy left by a shifted bookcase. Ford ponders his predicament.

Ford: You know aint it just my luck? the family has alwasy been kinda paranoid about letting secrets like that out. "Knowledge in the wrong hands" and all that. but i would have thought that any trap we laid was DNA encoded...

From the shadowy hole a voice is heard

Voice: They are.

Mustang Aruelius Ford steps from the shadows into the moody light of the Library. lightening flashes as he does and the lights inside flicker.

RAM: But they arent using electric power! they're using gas! how could..oof *RAM is dragged away by stagehands*

Mustang: Yes, it is unfortunate you had to learn of this in such an unpleasant manner. But as you know, things happen for a reason.

Ford: Everything has a cause no matter how far removed. Damnit why didnt any of you tell me!? Did you think i couldnt handle it?

Mustang: I knew you coudlnt handle it, as is evident at this moment. Doctor, if you would please step away from my great-grandson. thank you i wouldnt want you to be harmed...again.

Ford the hero is now surrounded by a green arua that began glimmering faintly when mustang stepped out from his hiding place. His eyes are glowing fiercely and his teet are crackling with energy. he is clennching and unclenching his hands spasmodically.

Ford: Why didnt anyone tell me!?! I had a right to know.

Mustang: Your genetics, my boy. But please calm down. i dont want to have to sedate you.

Ford: WHY DIDNT ANYONE TELL ME!?!

Oh my! Ford's aura is now so bright that you cant see him clearly anymore. Why is he so angry? what about his genetics predisposes him to overreactions? why must i always end these things with questions? Oh well. we probably wont find out for a couple weeks anyway. see you next time on The Neverending Story!

Dr. Dor: Oooh...marshmallow time!
My girlfriend paid a lot of money for that tv; I want to watch ALL OF IT. - JM
2005-02-17, 6:23 AM #357
TLTE: I am deeply sorry, Absolver. Your swords will have to wait. Let us go.

CM: Aren't we forgetting someone?

Wai: Miss Fire! And that spanish fellow!

CM: Oh CRAP! Where are they?

TLTE: We should search the wreckage, maybe they were not as fortunate as us.

As they began to approach the wreckage, the group began to hear the sound of two people arguing.

Miss Fire: What do you mean it was my fault? It's YOUR SHIP!

Enchilada Man: Every time you come around, I lose another ship!

Miss Fire: What ARE you talking about? You are on the 7th ship already! I haven't been around the past 5 of them!

Enchilada Man: You just want a peak at my famous salsa recipies!

Miss Fire: I HATE mexican food! Why in the WORLD would I want it?

Enchilada Man: You lie! My mexican dishes are irresistable!

Miss Fire: It's not even special! You just throw a bunch of --URK!

Enchilada Man puts his hand over Miss Fire's mouth.

Enchilada Man: Silencio, estupido hermana! You almost revealed my secret ingredient!

Wai: Can't we just leave them here?

TLTE: Tis tempting, for sure. Looks like we'll have to herd them back.

And they do just that. The two continue to argue about the ship, while TLTE, CM, and Wai push them on. Krig runs around, tongue hanging out, screaming lyrics to KISS.

Narrator: Will the heroes finally make it to Jupiter? Will Samus ever catch that Space Pirate? Wait... why do I get a speaking lne?

Because you aren't the Narrator.

Narrator: Wait, this isn't right! Let me back in!

Suddenly, the Narrator can no longer speak!

Narrator: Osdfshdfsdfsd~!

Hahahaha, I have won!

RAM: But if the Narrator can't speak, how are you speaking, seeing as how you took his position as Narrator?

What? But that would mean... NOoooo!!!!

Narrator *smiling*: And suddenly, a plot hole opens, and sucks in Guy On Cell from the Narrator box. And the original Narrator is finally returned to his home...

...in the Narrator box. Now who says this story can't have a happy ending?

RAM: When do I get my paycheck?!

Huh? Oh that! Suddenly, a pile of cash falls from the sky, crushing the RAM. Anyone else want some money?

*Audience shakes their heads*

Didn't think so. Anyway, stay tuned for the next Neverending Story!
2005-02-19, 2:04 AM #358
*As the heroes pull the wrestling Enchilada Man and Miss Fire up the ramp of Samus Aran's space vessel, TLTE stops still and stares back at the craters.*

CM: TLTE, help us! We have to get out of here before Samus mistakes Krig for a metroid!

Krig: Booga booga.

TLTE: Wait...we're going about this all wrong...

Wai: What now, you drunken Russian relic?!

*TLTE strides down the ramp, standing at the base, his arms folded.*

TLTE: In the case of my current heart-wrenching decision, to save my beloved from person or persons unknown, or to recover the defiled arms of my late friend and NeS hero, Absolver, I elect...to do nothing.

*There is a beat.*

CM: What do you mean, nothing?

TLTE: Exactly that, mageling. I'm going to stand here and fiddle with the change in my pocket. Nothing constructive at all.

Wai: But you can't do nothing! You have to do something!

*Both of them stare at TLTE, not knowing whether to smack him to his senses or leave him abandoned on the planet. Next to them, Krig suddenly smiles.*

Krig: Ahhh....Krig gets Tee-Ell-Tee-Eee!

CM: Really?

Krig: No, Krig joking. Who is Tee-Ell-Tee-Eee anyway?

TLTE: I am, my addled accomplice. And fortunately for my brainwave at the 11th hour, we can have our figurative cake and eat it too.

*Wai's cybernetic mind struggles to compute with this misinformation, and so his body locks up. As he goes into spasm quietly on the floor, CM steps over him and sits down next to the silent figure of TLTE, who strokes his beard and gazes over the horizon.*

CM: I'm curious...are you aware of how much of a buffoon you are? Or should we tell you occasionally as a refresher?

*TLTE spares a glance at him and looks away, smugly.*

TLTE: You are a competent man, mageling. You have some skill in magic, it's true. And to the weak and stupid we have come across, you have proven yourself a leader. Maybe someday I will even admit that you're not totally useless to the group.

CM: Thank you.

TLTE: You're welcome. But still, you're a newcomer to the NeS. And there is no comparison between the real world and the NeS.

CM: None?

TLTE: Well...only on the most superficial of levels.

CM: TLTE, what has this got to do with anything?

TLTE: Well, take our current example. I could rush off and save Losien, it's true. I could also go after Midvok and Absolver's weapons. Or...I could do nothing.

CM: Nothing.

TLTE: Well, I am breathing, I guess.

CM: You're insane, you know. We should be getting after someone, or something! Haven't you heard the phrase, "fortune favours the bold"?

TLTE: Ah, but the NeS...

*He motions to the distant craters, where the sounds of futuristic weaponry and Midvok's screaming can still be heard. For a moment, nothing happens...and then, the sound of a massive explosion rings out. A torrent of pink bubbles fly out from the distant crater, showering CM and TLTE in them. In front of them, Midvok and Samus land, delivered on a cascading flow of bubbly pink. They are both unconscious.*

TLTE: The NeS favours the fool.

*The spymaster stands proud, though still adorned in bubbles, his arms still folded, grinning broadly. CM sits, similarly drenched and staring in disbelief at the ground.*

CM: ...pink bubbles? A pink bubble explosion??!

TLTE: It's a plot hole. Learn to love them.

*He steps forward, grabbing Samus and Midvok by their respective collars, and dragging them into the ship.*

CM: Unbelievable.

*He stands up and begins walking up the ramp, but stops and picks up a bubble. Gingerly, he guides it into his mouth, sampling it. A disbelieving grin ripples across his face.*

CM: Marshmallow!
The Last True Evil - consistent nobody in the Discussion Forum since 1998
2005-02-27, 5:50 PM #359
To P.U.N.T. a B.U.M.P.!

No, wait... "to post until narrative text a benevolant upwards mobility post?"

Alright, someone needs to hire better writers...


(NSP: I still am plagued with writer's block, laziness, and "real life" as many of you certainly are. We might need to actively search for new writers...)
The Plothole: a home for amateur, inclusive, collaborative stories
http://forums.theplothole.net
2005-02-27, 7:55 PM #360
Samus Aran's spaceship.....

Wai: "Who the frag are you?"

Pingu:: "I'm a Deus Ex Machina!"

Wai: "What, another one?"

Krig: "Ah! Lunch has arrived!"

Wai: "Krig! Don't touch the...."

Krig: "Stupid birdy beaked me!"

Wai: "Put the axe down, Krig!"

Krig: "Why?"

Wai: "Because you might hit me!"

Krig: "You insult Krig's honour as a warrior?"

Wai: "No! No! I didn't mean...."

TLTE:: "Hey, what's this?"

Pingu: "I'm a Deus Ex Machina!"

TLTE:: "What, another one?"

Wai: "KRIIIIIG! I DIDN'T MEAN IT!"

Krig: "Come down from handy candelabra, and face hideous death like man!"

TLTE: "So, what're you here for?"

Pingu: "To point you in the right way."

TLTE: "What, you got some kind of roadmap on how the plot turns out?"

------

In Writer Land

.oO(Uh Oh....)

-----

Pingu: "No, no, I just know where you're supposed to go next."

TLTE:: "So, what are you waiting for? Out with it!"

Pingu:: "Well, y'know, I'm a freakin' Deus Ex Machina! What about a bit of ceremony?"

TLTE:: "Rub-a dub-dub, thanks for the grub." *spit* "There, ceremony. "

Pingu:: "Oh alright, honestly. Well, you're supposed to go to GLURK!"

TLTE:: "Glurk? What the hell kind of place is Glurk?"

Krig: "Now birdy, you good with lemon or with garlic?"

Pingu:: "MMFMFMFMFFFFFFF!" (Trans: GET THIS FREAKING PENGUIN EATING VIKING OFFA ME!)

TLTE:: "Yo! Matty! You know where Glurk is?"

CM:: "Isn't it between Gaaaaah and Arrrgh?"

TLTE:: "Nah, you're thinking of Aieeeee."

Krig: "Yorn desh born, der ritt de gitt der gue, Orn desh, dee born desh, de umn, Bork! Bork! Bork!"

Pingu:: "MFFFFFFFMFMFGHGHGHDDDDD" (Trans: WHERE THE HELL DID YOU HIDE A HIBATCHI?)

CM:: "What's this?"

TLTE:: "A Deus Ex Machina."

CM:: "What, another one?"

TLTE:: "Not for much longer..."

CM:: "So, what did it want?"

TLTE:: "It knows where we're supposed to go next. You know where Glurk is?"

CM:: "Nah. You sure that's what it said?"

TLTE:: "Yup."

Pingu:: "MMFGMFGMFDGMFGFF" (Trans: MY *** IS NOT USED FOR THAT, PERV!)

CM:: "Maybe we should ask it again."

TLTE:: "Yeah. Yo! Krig! We want a minute with your lunch."

Krig: "What? I just about to tenderise!"

TLTE:: "C'mon Krig. Just a minute."

Krig: "Okay... you be quick!"
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